In Which I Turn Into A Beetroot

Jughead and I have this running gag. As happens with good friends, we've come up with plenty over the years. This one, though, is relatively new.

You see, Jug is the kind of guy, who despite his protests is what you'd call a hopeless romantic; ready to be swept off his feet at a drop of a hat (or pants, in his case). Lately, he's been meeting up with new potentials after a winter-long hibernation and at one point even had five going. Definitely not one for being left behind.

Most of the guys have been harmless virtual fun: chatting on the net and a bit of webcam action. A couple, however, have turned into real-life meet and greet. I caught up with Jug a few days after one of his most recent "dates" for our usual debrief.

"How was it?," I asked. He blinked, flicked his hair back, took a moment and then smiled. And before he even opened his mouth to reply, I already knew the answer.

"You're already smitten, aren't you?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Oh, yes, you are."

"...okay, I am. But you don't understand. He's a policeman!"

Then followed my shaking my head in mock disappointment and he blushing and turning the shade of beetroot. Ah, my best mate. Always so besotted, always so early.

Over the weekend, I met a guy at a wedding. A nice change of pace from the usual gaggle of straight single (and desperate) girls, Jules is a long-time friend of the groom. Over our tiny serves of reception-styled feed and copious amounts of free alcohol, we got to know one another. By the time the formal proceedings were over and the dancefloor started booming, we had our arms around each other.

Yesterday, we met for a post-wedding catch-up. I was worried that what had happened at the nuptials was a once off thing and that the magic felt was a complete fluke. But over coffee and more than an hour later, I guess it's safe to say that my initial concern is unfounded. Granted, there were no intertwining of arms but there was the same easy and subtle bubbling attraction. I can't get him outta of my head.

I guess this time it's Jug's turn to shake his head and for me to turn bright red.

Now, that is what you call a root!